


The Aftermath

by guineamania



Series: GYWO Bingo [6]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Disaster, F/M, Faked Death, Family Fluff, Grief/Mourning, gratitude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:46:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5171771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineamania/pseuds/guineamania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bomb goes off in New York City but Peter never thought this disaster could put his life back on track.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the Disaster Thriller spot on my GYWO Bingo

“Its times like this that make you realise all you have to be grateful for doesn’t it,” Peter sighed as they looked out over the crumbling buildings and shattered homes.

“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today and creates a vision for tomorrow,” Mozzie replied in truly Mozziesque fashion. It had been a bomb. It was a nuclear terrorist attack that destroyed their home, the city they all loved. Thankfully the attack wasn't designed to end lives and the isotope used was not too long lasting. The majority of the population had been evacuated but the death toll was still high. The rebuilding was due to start again soon but it was too dangerous to remain for long. Peter just wanted to see the devastation with his own eyes. "At least Neal didn't live to see the city he loved die," Peter muttered, his thoughts dipping into their usual melancholy. He had been in this spiral ever since Neal died, his marriage with Elizabeth had crumbled and the FBI had lost confidence in him. Everything he saw made his thoughts turn back to his CI, even this wasteland.

“Peter, I may not have been entirely honest with you,” Mozzie murmured. Peter spun around shocked at the guilty expression on Mozzie’s face. “And now I need your help.”

 

“How dare you!” Peter shouted, pushing Mozzie back against the wall. “How dare you stand there and watch as we all grieved for him. And he was living the life in Paris. Did he steal again? Did he laugh at us all mourning and con his way through Europe?” Peter continued, his fury consuming him. Some part of him believe that this couldn’t be it. Neal wouldn’t do this to them. But the logical part of his brain believed that Neal could do this; he always used to say “once a con always a con” and now Peter was starting to believe it.

“He’s clean, he hasn’t stolen anything. He toured the world but New York was his home. He returned a few weeks before the incident under a new name,” Mozzie explained, Peter’s eyes widened and he finally released Mozzie’s collar.

“Why didn’t he find us, why didn’t he talk to me?” Peter whispered, his head reeling with this new influx of information.

“He wanted to prove to you that he had changed. He was applying for jobs and trying to make something of his life without using our ill-gotten gains,” Mozzie explained, straightening his shirt and jacket. “But I haven’t heard from him since the explosion,” he confessed, ducking as Peter’s threw a book at his head. He had just found out that Neal wasn’t dead. But he could have been killed again. It really wasn’t his day.

 

“We need to find him, we need to know that he is safe,” Peter sighed, stood at the head of the table in front of the people he trusted most. Elizabeth had returned from DC to help with the rebuilding and Peter had taken this chance to rebuild their relationship; she was more than happy to help her husband get some closure. Of course Mozzie was present and Diana had arrived with Jones in tow. Sara was abroad so couldn’t help but she was willing to let them use Sterling-Bosh resources.

“We can pull records if Mozzie knows which alias he could be using but it is easy to lose someone in this chaos. If we can find out what he was doing before the disaster then we can try to link that to afterwards,” Diana continued, they could draw on FBI data as well as Mozzie’s underhand contacts but Mozzie doubted they would be any help.

“Neal’s gone clean, he won’t be talking to any of his old contacts,” Mozzie argued but agreed to check anyway. Peter prayed he wouldn’t find anything but he had to cover all bases.

 

“I’ve got something boss,” Diana called out, collecting sheets of paper and passing them to Peter. “Victor Nicholas Moreau, raised in Texas, son of a pub landlord, never really made much of his life. Why am I bothered about him?” Peter questioned, this man couldn’t be Neal. Victor had a full past that Neal couldn’t have invested himself, he had a valid social security number and real parents. In the time Neal had been missing he couldn’t have created all of this.

“I found it suspicious that he came to New York a few weeks before the accident and immediately changed his name to Nicholas Moreau. For one the surname, it’s Kate’s name. Secondly why would a man in his late thirties suddenly decide to go by his middle name unless he only came across this name recently? Also he is the same age as Neal and is described as being brown haired and blue eyed. I am still waiting on his picture to come through as he has no social media at all,” Diana explained and she was right, that was suspicious. However their questions were answered much quicker than they anticipated. By Mozzie.

“I thought he had burned that name,” Mozzie muttered when Peter showed him the file. “When we were going to run, we bought identities from an identity farmer. This was Neal’s. He always hated the name Victor, I’m not surprised he changed it given the chance,” a grin spread across Mozzie’s face. Now they knew the alias Neal was using they might be able to find him.

 

They did find him, we was volunteering and living at a relief shelter. It turns out he had been back living in June’s mansion and it had been pretty heavily hit. June had taken her family to their holiday home but Neal had stayed to help the effort. When Peter first spotted him it felt as if his heart stopped. It was definitely Neal; he had day’s old stubble lining his chin and his usually neat hair was unkempt but it was definitely him. He had a sling but was still moving like the cat burglar he used to be, dancing around these people. He was helping and Peter felt like a proud father watching. “Neal,” Peter whispered, assuming that Neal wouldn’t be able to hear. Neal did hear. Like in a cliché film, Neal turned round and it felt like the world started turning in slow motion. Surprise spread across Neal’s face that quickly turned to confusion. Neal plastered on a smile and apologised to the woman he was with before heading over to Peter and Diana.

“You found me,” Neal muttered, before he was pulled into a hug.

 

Ten years ago if you had told Neal Caffrey that he would have real job and a loyal group of friends then he would have laughed in your face and stolen your wallet. But yet here he was, he had settled down and got a job working for Elizabeth at Burke Premier Events. She had kept the company running while she consulted in DC but she knew that New York would always be home. Neal was enjoying himself, he got to put his charm and silver tongue to work without breaking the law. All it took was a faked death and New York nearly being levelled for them to get to this point. He was grateful of his second chance; and it was going to be a good one.


End file.
